Graveyard Goodbyes
by time-failed-us
Summary: My alternate ending of the graveyard scene in Cap 2... Captasha! I realize there aren't many stories that do this so I wrote this. Please review and hope you like it!
1. Graveyard Goodbyes

A tall, blonde, well-built man stood beside a slightly less muscular and shorter companion. They looked down at a gravestone. On it was a short epitaph.

"The path of a righteous man," the blonde read. "Too bad he died."

At this, his friend nodded and grinned. Another man, older and weathered, came to stand with the two other men. He wore a pair of sunglasses instead of his usual eye patch.

"So, you've experienced this sort of things before?" Fury asked, looking pointedly at the blonde.

Steve grinned. "You get used to it," he replied nonchalantly.

Fury shook his head and huffed. "We've been data-mining Hydra's files. Looks like a lot of rats didn't go down with the ship. I'm heading to Europe tonight, wanted to ask if you'd come."

"There's something I gotta do first."

"How about you, Wilson? I could use a man with your abilities." His tone was more like making a statement than hopeful and pleading.

"I'm more of a soldier than a spy," Sam answered, a little apologetic.

"Alright then." Fury turned to glance at his own grave, then shook his two companions' hands. "Anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me right here."

With that said, Fury left the cemetery, driving away in a SHIELD issued SUV. Watching him leave, the two men were surprised at the sudden appearance of a certain beautiful red-haired spy and assassin.

"You should be honoured, that's about as close as he gets to saying thank you," she said, holding back a smirk.

Steve frowned. "Not going with him?

"No."

"Not staying here?" There was a sliver of hope, barely detectable, in his voice.

Natasha sighed. "I blew all my covers, I gotta go figure out a new one." She pursed her lips, remembering how she uploaded all SHIELD's files onto the Internet in hopes of driving Hydra out.

"That might take a while," the soldier observed.

"I'm counting on it."

Natasha gave Sam a look, and the veteran left, patting his blonde compatriot on the shoulder. When he left, Natasha handed Steve a file.

"That thing you asked me for? I called in a few favors from Kiev."

Steve looked at the file, glancing over its contents, then firmly shutting it. He smiled at the Russian beauty. "Thanks."

Natasha nodded in response. "Will you do me a favor? Call that nurse."

"She's not a nurse." Steve shot back, raising his eyebrows.

"And you're not a SHIELD agent." Natasha was equally as quick to reply.

Knowing he would not win this battle, Steve sighed. "What was her name again?"

Natasha smirked in victory. "Sharon. She's nice." Turning to walk away, she felt a hand grasp her wrist, pulling her back to face Steve.

"Natasha, I'm not interested in her," he confided.

Her perfectly trimmed eyebrows knitted together. "Why? She's pretty, cool, not to mention related to Peggy—"

"Her relation to Peggy doesn't matter to me. And Sharon's not my type." Seeing Natasha's disbelieving face, Steve sighed and gently let go of her wrist. "She lied to me. I mean, Fury lied to me too, but this is different. I thought I knew who she was, but she was just lying to me all the time. And since the only thing I knew about her was that she was a nurse, that kinda means I was totally wrong about her, and the only thing I knew about her wasn't even the truth."

Natasha understood how Steve felt, but she didn't know what to say. She had been lied to for many years during her experience in the Red Room, but at the same time, lying was part of her job as a spy and agent of SHIELD.

"Okay, but you better find a girlfriend before the next time we meet again. It's about time. Also, I'm gonna meet her, so get someone nice," Natasha smirked. The blonde soldier in front of her looked shocked, scared, amused, and confused at the same time. Natasha couldn't stop herself from smiling at how funny he looked.

On impulse, the spy hugged Steve's shoulders, pulling him into a friendly, but not intimate hug. She was surprised when the soldier reciprocated and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. Natasha drew in a sharp breath at the warmth his body emanated and the safe way his muscular biceps fit around her body. After a moment, Natasha pulled away with a small smile and started to walk towards her car. Pausing, she turned around to face her partner.

Gesturing to the file, she spoke up. "Be careful, Steve. You might not want to pull on that thread." Turning, Natasha started to get into her car. Just as she was about to step on the gas, a voice yelled her name.

"Nat! Wait! Don't go yet!" Curious, Natasha got out of her seat to see an anxious-looking Steve running effortlessly towards her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

Steve breathed in deeply. He had no idea why he ran after Natasha, or why he felt so broken watching her go. It was as if his body was moving of its own accord, pulling him toward the spy, making him stand there in shock as she peered at him with her enchanting emerald eyes through those thick lashes, waiting for him to say something. Steve gaped at her, opening and shutting his mouth. It was as if his brain had shut down, and all he could feel was the heat coming from her hand on his shoulder. Dammit.

"Steve… I need to go. What is it?" Natasha looked at him weirdly, smiling at his awkwardness, which she secretly thought was actually quite charming.

Steve scratched the back of his neck. "U-uhm I-I just wanted to, you know, say something, um, to you… It was, you know, good, to work with you…" he cringed at the words coming out of his mouth.

Natasha chuckled. "It was nice working with you too, Steve." But before she could open her car door, Steve's hand once again grasped her wrist.

Natasha had had enough of this. She whirled around, her red hair flicking Steve's face. "Look, Steve, I honestly have to go, so just say it, or I'm leaving." Her emerald eyes penetrated Steve's soul, showing him that she would do exactly what she said. Steve's eyes widened. He gulped, and opened his mouth.

"I-I… like… you?"

Steve ducked his head. Crap. Crap crap crap crap. He shouldn't have opened his mouth in the first place.

"Steve. I thought we established that we were friends already?"

Steve shook his head. "No… no…" he muttered. Sighing, he knew it was no good. He was easily flustered and couldn't utter a single word in front of beautiful women, and this was no normal beautiful woman. This was Natasha Romanoff.

He felt himself leaning in, tilting his head slightly. Natasha's eyes fluttered closed. Steve cupped her face gently in his right hand, and captured Natasha's plump red lips with his.

Natasha was thoroughly surprised. Steve was kissing her? A million fireworks exploded like bombs in her head as his lips moved against hers. She felt herself kissing back, snaking an arm around his neck and into his soft golden hair, pulling his body closer. Steve felt courageous enough to slide his hand down to her waist, loving the feel of her velvet lips on his and the warmth of her body as she pulled him close.

They slowly pulled apart. Steve blushed and flashed a shy grin at Natasha, who smiled back. "Steve…"

"I know. You need to go… Sorry for holding you up."

Natasha cocked her head. "No, I'm glad you did."

Stepping back a little, Steve looked at her sadly. "So you're really leaving…"

"Don't look so sad, soldier." Natasha gently traced his chiseled jaw with the back of her hand, smiling as he leaned slightly into her touch. Kissing him on the cheek, she added: "I'll be back."

Steve nodded and grinned. "So should I get a girlfriend before we meet again?" he asked jokingly.

"You already have one," Natasha whispered, sending him another look as she got in her car and drove away.

Steve watched her leave, smiling at her last words. Wow, that went surprisingly well. Turning his head, he noticed Sam next to him.

"Let's go loverboy, we got a long-lost friend to find," Sam grinned, nudging Steve as they slowly left the graveyard.


	2. Reunion? Ideas WANTED

Sorry this isn't a chapter... I need to ask you guys something first.

So a few of you have been asking for a continuation of this story. Thanks for the support guys! SP12122015 asked me to write a reunion scene when Cap and Nat meet again prior to or in the beginning of Avengers 2, so here it is!

I have a few ideas, please vote on which you'd prefer, or if you'd like me to write them all… So it can be a multi-ending story… If that even exists :P

1\. 1. When Steve comes back, Natasha is injured

2\. 2. When the Avengers are called to assemble, their Captain is rumored to be MIA/missing/out of contact

3\. 3. They cross paths one day

4\. 4. Sam arranges with some others (hehehe) to get them together… somehow

5\. Any ideas? Please review this story or PM me if any of you have a request or one of the above ideas that you like! Thanks!


	3. Fake Mission Alert (Part I)

Hi guys! It's me again, updating before school starts tomorrow because it's been almost one week and the reviews and suggestion from you guys are just too nice :) so thank you thank you soooo much for your wonderful support! Also, numbers 3 and 4 on my list had the most votes, so this is number 4 first…

* * *

"I thought we said today. Come on, we had a plan, man!"

"No, _you _had a plan, man. Not me. Which is why it just kinda sucks."

"Gimme a break, we've been at this for what, like weeks? And we still haven't set a date yet!"

"You're making it sound like we're the ones on a date. Sorry, you're not my type."

Sam Wilson groaned loudly and audibly at the phone at the caller. Suddenly, a worried Steve barged into the toilet, where he was hiding.

"Sam, what's—" catching sight of Sam's phone, Steve's brow furrowed. "I thought you said you lost it…"

Sam's eyes widened. He hadn't wanted Steve to be suspicious that he was plotting something, so he had lied to the captain about losing his phone. "I-I found it! In your bag! You filthy thief! I can't even look at you!"

With that said, Falcon stormed out of the motel room they shared, slamming the door behind him in mock anger as Steve looked on in confusion.

Ducking into a dark corridor and unlocking his phone, Sam put it to his ear again. "Okay, I've bought us some time. We were gonna leave tomorrow but I'll make sure he's still here."

"Wilson? What are you talking about? And where are you and Rogers?"

"Wow. I can't see you and I can imagine you jumping around all nervous in your Captain America pyjamas. I'll do you a favour and sign you up for some relaxing spas. 50% off for two sessions."

Sam sighed again at the two voices on the other ends of the line. He had no idea how he got reeled into this mess.

"Guys, stop fighting. If we're gonna make this happen, we better act fast."

"Right. And what exactly are we acting on this early in the morning? I don't know where you are but in America it's 2am. So I'd greatly appreciate a little more information before I get dressed and ship myself to some other country to make sure you two don't get up to anything. Especially you, Stark."

Lounging in his basement, tinkering around with his new "toys", the billionaire smirked. The new upgraded mask for his Mark 41 suit was almost done, and he was in a pretty good mood. "Whatever you say, Agent. Can't beat the suit."

"My name is not _Agent_."

"Stark, please don't do this. Seriously. Don't you wanna see what happens?"

"Fine. But I still refuse to call him _Phil_. Don't know why Pep likes him so much."

"Coulson, I'm sending you the details of our plan right… now. Got it?"

"Copy. How will you execute this?"

"We've got that covered. Just hand over the files."

Agent Coulson nodded curtly, then realized the two idiots on the other side of his phone couldn't see him, and promptly ended the call, sighing to himself. Looking down at himself, he felt self-conscious after what Stark had said about his limited edition Captain America pyjamas. Oh well. No time to worry about that, time for work.

Steve looked around the motel, calling Sam's name. Where was the guy? He must still be angry at him for "stealing" his phone. The soldier sighed. Didn't Sam know that he wouldn't ever steal anything?

After searching the motel, he gave up and started walking around the city. Sam was bound to be somewhere, in a café, maybe? He knew his friend liked waffles, but there weren't any waffle restaurants in the small city of Rothenberg, Germany. Nevertheless, he kept searching. There couldn't be many places to hide a loud, extroverted man, could there?

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he watched his tall blonde captain walk out of the motel. Thank god he didn't think of searching in the closet. He crawled out of his uncomfortable position, and waited for the plan to be put into action.

Natasha was bored. Extremely, frustratingly, bored. She certainly had her fill of missions, as the newly reestablished SHIELD was shorthanded due to the Hydra agents being flushed out in thousands. However, she concealed her true feelings with a mask of boredom. She hadn't heard from Steve in a long time, and was starting to get a bad feeling about it.

The spy and the soldier had been keeping up communications during the time he was gone looking for the Winter Soldier and when she was burying her blown covers. They had agreed that it would be better for them to just be in a friendly relationship, since the time and distance apart wouldn't help things.

Even though Natasha never told anyone, she cared deeply about the sweet, adorable, handsome captain. She knew every woman in America was in love with him, so why her? A Russian assassin and spy, with blood on her hands and black in her past. Steve deserved better, someone who could understand him and care for him, someone who could start a family with him and raise his children. Natasha knew she couldn't measure up to that. She would never be a domesticated mother, her duties needed her too much.

Speaking of duties. Phil Coulson walked up to her desk and dropped a file in front of her. She had been taking many more missions lately to stop herself from moping and worrying about Steve. Looking up at the senior agent, she nodded slightly in greeting, and was a little surprised when she was offered a small smile. Natasha knew she had an effect on men, but not Coulson, who rarely smiled.

Natasha shook her head to rid herself of the thought and opened the file. Armed gang group take down. Easy. Glancing down, she smirked. Looks like she was headed for Germany.

* * *

So? How is it? Sorry I didn't have enough time to finish this, but here's part I to entertain you first! Thanks to everybody for reading and reviewing, means a lot :)

Alexa


	4. Fake Mission Alert (Part II)

I'm really sorry for not continuing this fic. A lot of you have stuck by it and I feel horrible for letting you down. I've been too focused on the PJO fandom nowadays. Here's the second part of Fake Mission Alert and once again, sorry! I won't be continuing this any more but I just want to say that it means a lot that you guys still care and I felt so bad I had to finish it up. Still a huge Captasha fan though :) Hope you like it!

* * *

The jet, expertly piloted by one Natasha Romanoff, landed 13 minutes ahead of schedule. The spy smiled to herself in triumph. It was her best record yet. Thank God she managed to convince Fury to let her use a SHIELD transport or else she'd still be stuck on an airplane for another five hours.

Moving to unlatch the heavy metal door, she swung her long, black leather clad legs down towards the ground and dropped, landing gracefully on her brown boots. Swinging the keys around her finger, Natasha hauled some supplies out of the jet and went back down to ground to check in with her hotel.

"Ein Einzelzimmer, bitte," she said in fluent German to the blonde female receptionist.

"Name?" the receptionist eyed Natasha as she typed on a computer.

"Helena Holtzapfel," Natasha answered, not skipping a beat.

In her head, she berated SHIELD for giving her such a stupid cover. Holtzapfel literally meant wood apple. Seriously, the guys at SHIELD were such_ Saukerls _(filthy pigs).

"You don't look German," the woman said skeptically, eyeing Natasha's choice of clothing. The spy smiled back.

"I take that as a compliment."

Room key in hand, she trudged up the stairs with her supplies. Flinging them down onto the carpet, she surveyed the small room. It had a rather nice view of the small city of Rothenburg, and she could feel her stomach rumbling at the sight of some small restaurants. It wouldn't hurt to eat a little before investigating the case.

Tugging off the blonde wig she'd managed to put on to avoid detection—red hair wasn't so common in Germany—Natasha changed. The receptionist had said that she didn't look German. Well, she'd show 'em German. She swapped leather for jeans and a checkered blouse, and dyed her hair blonde so no wig accidents could happen. Gathering her room key and some money, Helena Holtzapfel (she cringed) was ready for lunch.

* * *

She walked casually around the streets, looking like she belonged there but actually keeping her eyes peeled for any strange movements. The smell of fresh bread and bacon wafted into her nose, and she couldn't wait any longer.

The restaurant was small but cozy. It had an assortment of breads to choose from behind a counter, along with sausages and any other kind of meat, you name it. There were also some nice salads that Natasha really wanted (it wasn't easy keeping her figure like this), but she knew it would be a little out of the ordinary, so she opted for a meat, cheese and bread platter. Her stomach growled in agreement.

After paying, she sat down at a table, munching and reading a German magazine. Suddenly, someone walked in and paused next to her table. She didn't react.

"Excuse me, ma'am, have you seen a black man, five foot eight, loud and thinks he's funny? I think he might have run away from me for lunch."

The man spoke good German with a little bit of an accent and had a deep voice. Natasha sighed and decided that anything was better than reading stupid German magazines about celebrities she didn't even care about. Her sex life was way more scandalous than any of these hotshots'.

She put down the magazine and looked up. "Sorry, I was too engrossed in these dumb celebrities' lives to notice anyone walk in."

The man laughed and slid into the chair opposite her. His baseball cap—Yankees, she noticed—covered his eyes. "I'm Hans."

"Helena."

"Nice to meet you," he said, extending a hand. She shook it. A question stayed in her mind. Why was he trying to cover up his face? Maybe he had something to hide.

"You know," Natasha began, "I like to talk to people's faces. Don't know about you, but in Germany, that's called being polite."

The man seemed surprised. "How did you know?"

"Your hat," she replied, in English this time. "Yankees. New York."

"You speak English?" the man swapped languages to keep up with her. There was something familiar about this guy.

"Yes. If you can speak German, surely I can speak your language." Woah, Helena was starting to become sassy, Natasha thought.

The man hesitated, then took hold of the brim of his cap. "Can I trust you, Helena?" he asked warily.

"Of course," she answered. "You're not German, you're definitely not Hans, and I'm still sitting here talking to you instead of reporting you to the police, imposter. I think that means I can be trusted."

Again, he chuckled, and took off his cap with a flourish.

"The name's Steve," he said. "Some call me Captain America."

Natasha's eyes widened. She gaped. Her cover couldn't be blown yet, though.

"I know," she gasped. "I can't believe it! You're here! Yet you cannot find your friend."

Steve grinned. "I'm not perfect. Thanks for your help, though, Helena. It was nice talking to you. Do you mind, um, giving me your… number? We could meet up again sometime." He said this as more of a question instead of a suggestion.

Natasha was more than shocked. Did Steve just ask a German girl out? Wait, what? Natasha's insides boiled as she realised that her kind-of boyfriend had just asked another girl out and was kind-of cheating on her. That _Arschloch_ (asshole)!

Outside, she smiled charmingly at him. "Yes, of course, but only if it's a date."

The soldier's brows flew upwards. "Oh, um, miss… Look, I'm sorry if it sounded different to you, but… It's not a date. I wanted to get to know you better, as friends. I'm really sorry… I have a kind-of girlfriend at home and I don't want anything to come between us. I understand if you don't want to see me again, Helena… I—"

Natasha's insides stopped boiling and started bubbling instead. Steve wasn't cheating on her. Now _that _was the soldier she knew. Always true north.

She set a hand on his arm. "It's fine, Steve. I understand. Will you come with me to where I'm staying? As friends, of course," she added upon seeing his expression.

Steve agreed and allowed Helena to lead him away.

* * *

"So, you're not from here?" he observed, sitting on the bed.

"No." Helena confirmed. Suddenly, she turned her body from where she was sitting beside him and put a leg over to his other side so that she was straddling him. She tugged her hair out of its messy bun and smirked at him.

"My name isn't Helena either."

Steve was pinned under her. He didn't know what to do. What could he do? Who was she? Was she an assassin sent to kill him? Oh, crap. Just his luck—lose his friend and lose his life on the same day. And even if he survived, Natasha would kill him.

Helena ran her hands from his face down to his chest. "Helena—or whatever your name is—I can't."

"Yes, you can." Helena leaned closer and kissed him. At first, Steve was too shocked to act. Then, he grabbed her by the waist and pushed her off his lap.

"Steve, sometimes I wish you weren't _so_ moral," Helena sighed, rolling her eyes. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out something. A cred pack.

"Natasha Romanoff, SHIELD."

Steve gaped. "Natasha? But how? You're _blonde_," he said accusingly. Yet it fit—same bright green eyes, same delicious smirk, same tough attitude. "I can't believe I didn't see it sooner."

"I can't believe you didn't," Natasha echoed.

And so the soldier and the spy abandoned their respective missions for a while as they made up for lost time.

* * *

"Mission accomplished," Sam reported to Coulson and Tony, his new partners in crime, as he popped out from under the counter, waving thanks to the owners of the restaurant. "Should we relieve her from her mission?"

"Nah," Coulson replied. "We'll keep her there for a week. She needs some rest anyway."

"More like no rest," Tony snickered. The other two men couldn't help but laugh.

"So, when's the next mission not-so-impossible?"

Coulson paused, thinking. "Well… if you two are up for it, I've got these agents on my team that need a shove in the right direction. Bobbi Morse and Lance Hunter. Ex-wife and husband, though there seems to be something going on there."

"Let's do it!" Sam and Tony exclaimed.

* * *

Yes, I do love Huntingbird. Leave a review if you like them too! I hope this was enough to make you satisfied... I hate when people give up on fics. I hope you enjoyed the ride and thank you so much for all the love! Maybe those of you who are also into the PJO fandom (especially Percabeth and JEYNA) will check out my other fics!

Alexa


End file.
